


take a piece of me with you

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 07:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15990929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry calls Niall, they talk.





	take a piece of me with you

“Ni,” Harry says. His vision goes hazy as he tries to focus on the edge of his nose, phone hot against his ear. He pats Evie’s head, assuring himself of company.

It’s still ringing, seeming endless to Harry. The clock’s gone from twelve to three in the morning. Niall’s silence from the other side is exhausting and Harry just wants a text back. He’s only left one message and called once, this once, hoping it’s an appropriate time for Niall, hoping he’s still got a bit of Harry in his heart.

Feelings clog his throat as the dial tone comes to an end, the quite of his room deafening to his ears. He shifts a little in bed, throws a foot out to get comfortable, Evie snoring beside him. Tries to fit himself in a reality where now they’ve progressed to skipping calls even on birthdays.

He sighs, drops the phone on the bed and curls in on himself, perhaps this is a good thing. Harry himself doesn’t really want to talk to Niall when he’s a little drunk off the wine he’s been sipping at since dinner. It won’t be fair to either of them. It’s all good, he repeats to himself when somewhere a beat later his phone starts to vibrate.

Harry goes from pliant to alert in the span of two seconds. Niall’s name blinking on the screen of his phone like a distant memory. Harry almost doesn’t want to answer. Almost.

“Ni,” He says, tipping the back of his head against the pillows, burrowing himself in the warmth of his bed in case the call’s nothing like he’s been playing it out in his head.

“Haz, Hi,” Niall’s voice thick and slurred cuts through Harry’s vision, “How are you?” Harry puts a finger to his eyes and thinks, _how is he indeed_.

“Happy Birthday Ni,” He says instead, doing the easy talk first, easier to get the big things going first, easier to put aside that he’s unsure what the small things even are any more.

“It was two days ago but thank you, where are you?” Niall laughs softly. Harry sniffles and digs in deeper under his blankets.

“Y’know, I’m home,” Harry tells him and then laughs wetly, cause that’s an absurd thing to say, home is wherever I am, is what Harry always tells himself in the hours that lead up to lonely thoughts and memories.

“You’re in Cheshire then, how’s Anne then?” Niall says. And it’s surprising Niall’s got it right, it settles into Harry nicely.

“All good,” Harry tells him, “All good over there?” He asks.

“Yes, all is fine, was working when you texted,” Niall tells him faithfully. Harry wants to run a hand through his hair and thank him for being so sweet and good, even when Harry doesn’t leave space for him to be either.

“I miss you Ni,” He says simply, all restraints over his mouth lost to alcohol, his heart beat a loud thrumming in his ears, he worries over his lower lip, afraid Niall will be gone before Harry can say what’s been unfurling inside him since he got started on that wine.

“Jesus Harry,” Niall laughs, “How much have you had?”

Harry pauses then he speaks against every instinct urging him to laugh along with him, “True, obviously I’ll need alcohol to miss you cause I’m not allowed otherwise?”

“Why’ve you called me up?” Niall asks getting to the point. Harry wishes he knew.

“Obviously to wish you a very Happy Birthday, belated, and because you don’t call me anymore,” Harry says out loud, “Can’t even remember when I last spoke to you, you’ve packed me up and piled me under the section labelled to leave behind, when are you coming back?”

“Harry, you should go to sleep, we’ll talk later okay?” Niall replies quietly, his tone coming across cold and withdrawn.

Harry checks the time on the phone and it’s been only 1:56 since they connected, why’s Niall already trying to leave him again.

“I’m sorry, sorry,” He says loudly, gripping the phone tightly in his hand, “We’ll start afresh if you want to,” Harry shrugs into his bed, “Does it get lonely for you out there every night? Do you miss home?” _Do you miss me?_

Niall sighs, Harry envisions the lines of exhaustion under his eyes, thinks of nights they pulled each other through endless, tiring days, it’s been years since Harry last shared a bed with Niall, his own seemingly tiny, but enough for the both of them, and Evie, who snuggles closer to him on cue.

“No, I’m actually dreading the end of tour, my knees both fucked up again.” Niall tells him.

Harry touches his own knee at that, thinks of his back and all the remedies he’s tried to get it sorted, and yet.

“Jeez Niall, take care of yourself,  maybe tell me where you are so I can come around and keep you tucked in bed, read a book or two to you, teach you how not to exactly do those high jumps in the air so we can protect your knees from you.”

Niall laughs at that, a lighter one this time, Harry marks it down in his heart, “Fuck off Styles, reckon anyone but you is an expert on knees, how’s that back of yours then?”

“We’re both doing very good thank you for asking,” Harry says chin high up in the air, “Additionally, I’d take good care of you, you would trust me right?”

The line goes silent, filling Harry up with more boldness, he grits his teeth down forcefully, “Right?”

“Right,” Niall replies, “You want to rub my knees and fill my ice packs again then, well I say from experience that you’re shit at it, so probably no, I wouldn’t trust you any longer.”

It pierces through his heart, Niall’s open ended take on Harry. _From experience,_ Niall said, his voice finds a home in Harry’s anger, “Yes, also maybe, because you’re shit at letting me care for you, it’s always one sided ain’t it?” Harry adds, “Poor Niall always the hand that held Harry’s hand in the band, the one Harry was most comfortable around.”

“What shit has been going on in your head?” Niall’s voice goes a pitch, “And what the fuck are you even talking about?” Harry feels exasperated listening to him, “You know what let’s not do this tonight, or like ever again Harry, you’re being stupid.”

“I’m just trying to talk, to communicate better, isn’t that what you said I’m shit at,” Harry whisper yells, mostly yells, legs flying about in the air, face going hot, “And disappearing is what I’m good at, is how you’d ended everything, did you forget?”

“There wasn’t anything to end to begin with,” Niall’s quick to say, “Also, for reference this happened like two years ago, have you been living under a rock all this while then?”

“I have been trying very hard,” Harry emphasises on his efforts, they’re scanty, but they’re there, “It never comes to any fruition, I don’t know what to do most times.” _So I do nothing_.

“So, you do nothing,” Niall echoes, “Well then you can’t be expecting me to read you like a fucking open book all the time when you don’t even show me your face in forever.”

“You too.” Is all Harry wisely remarks in return, a tear or two rolling down his cheek to balance out the candour Harry’s insides are riding on tonight.

“Harry,” Niall rubs a hand over his face, his voice subdued by its weight, “I’ve had a long day, I’m extremely tired, I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow, why don’t I get back to you when I’ve got lesser load on my hands hm?” He adds stupidly, sweetly, “I promise I’ll call.”

If anything only this moment feels important to Harry, it presses down on him the possibility of Niall never giving him his time again, a whine works its way out his throat, “Please, Niall listen to me right now, please,” Harry pleads, a wrist coming to press hard at his eyes, to absorb all that is leaking out of them.

“Haz, you’ll—we might not like this tomorrow morning, are you sure,” Niall’s voice almost a whisper, Harry has to strain his ears to listen, “I can tell you we’ll regret all of it tomorrow.”

“We’re always doing this aren’t we,” Harry asks, sobs wide into the phone this time around, “All this talk and for what? I never get around to saying what I want and you’ll never let yourself do anything about it, we gave up so easy Niall.”

“No point in thinking of that Haz, it’s done, we’ve moved on haven’t we?” Niall shifts his phone, “Haven’t we?”

“I miss you so much all the time,” Harry says, “Like I’m fine doing things, but somehow you become my centre all over again, fuck,” He feels drained out, chest heaving with the breaths that aren’t coming to him, “And I know, I messed things up, and you possibly never wanted me in the first place—But you’ve always been good to me, thank you.”

“God, Harry this isn’t your fault okay? This wasn’t, isn’t because of anything you did,” Niall sounds desperate and firm all at the same time, Harry listens to him obediently, “We’re both—we’re both, so gone in our heads, it all happened so quickly, please stop, c’mon, no crying Harry, please.”

“I love you so much, right, and I hope you’ll remember we were so happy, we were friends and the silence was comforting that-- Niall cuts him off, “No, no listen to me Harry, listen, I’ve always loved you okay,” Niall’s voice catches on the last word and Harry goes still with how much sadness they’ve caused each other, “I still do, and always will, I love you, for everything that you are and everything that you will be.”

“I’m loved.” Harry says.

“You’re loved,” Niall tells him, “So much.”

And that’s that. He can hear Niall’s breathing slowing down, tries to match his own with his. Harry places a hand over his heart, as heavy as ever, but a little more sated, a little more soothed, a little more sadder.

Niall’s there on the phone with him, but Harry’s already feeling his absence taking root again and spurting to a full tree in his sight. The loss of a friend, one loved so dearly, is utterly devastating and Harry never wishes anyone ever has to go through a heart break so intense that the hole it leaves inside you never completely closes down again.

“Take care of yourself,” Niall says to him, “Drink water and kiss your cat for me.”

Harry blinks in surprise at Evie, “How’d you know? I didn’t—didn’t tell you, so how?”

“Gemma told me,” Niall tells him, “And there’s thing called the internet so yeah.”

“Shut up.” Harry laughs and Niall clicks off after that.

Harry goes to sleep thinking of Niall, he dreams of him. He dreams of his hair, his lips, his smile. He dreams of their hands entwined together, fingers locked and filling in all the spaces that time has carved in their absence.  He dreams of how if he were there where Niall is, then, then he would put his lips to his ears, softly, sweetly, try to do right what they didn’t do before, and this time they’ll call it exactly what it is, love. Dreams that now they’ve got it wrong once, they’ll get it right the next time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
